


Falling

by Lovelyziam



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [16]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: It's a quasi-superhero/spy au, M/M, and by that I mean they're definitely not civillians, but it isn't really addressed, spy AU, superhero au, they fight some kind of bad guys, very sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 14:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19814104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyziam/pseuds/Lovelyziam
Summary: “So what? I get shot at all the time. I don’t know if you know this, Zayn, but it’s kinda part of the job—”“—and,” Zayn interrupted, “you were shot at and you fell two fucking stories, Liam. Excuse me for being more than a little concerned. I don’t know if you know this, but that kind of fall kills people, Liam.”Liam just smirked up at him, the bastard. “Aww, c’mon, Zaynie. I’m not even hurt. I thought you knew me better than this. It’s gonna take more than a little fall to kill me.” And then the asshole winked at him, fucking winked while Zayn was sitting there consumed with worry, and now more than righteous anger. If he wanted to pretend like his fucking safety was a joke, then fine, Zayn wasn’t going to treat him delicately, either.





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://lovlieziam.tumblr.com/post/186292916536/ziam-and-i-couldnt-decide-out-of-34-or-35-sorry)!

Zayn watched Liam go down, the whole scene playing out in painful slow motion. He felt, more than heard Liam’s name tear from his own throat, his pulse thundering in his ears as what seemed to be his entire being focused on the disaster playing out before him. His feet were moving before his brain had even fully registered that Liam had been hit, his mind still filled with the white noise that had taken residence the minute he realized Liam was in danger.

He was at Liam’s side in less than two minutes—and impressive feat, considering how far he’d been from Liam in the first place—and his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. He reached forward, pressing two fingers to Liam’s neck, hoping and praying to find a pulse. All the adrenaline pumping through his veins made his vision blur, and it came as a shock to realize he was _shaking_. The fingers pressed to Liam’s throat were racked with small tremors that seemed to travel up Zayn’s arm and into his _core._

And he still couldn’t find a fucking _pulse, Jesus._ He pressed a little harder, trying to choke back the sob that was insistent on making its way up his throat.

If Liam was dead, Zayn was going to fucking _murder_ him.

Then finally, _finally_ , Zayn felt the faint and rhythmic _thump thump thump_ of Liam’s pulse, and all his breath left him in a rush, the sob he’d been holding back breaking from his throat and loosening everything in his chest.

Liam was alive, thank _fuck._ His pulse was weak, and his skin was ashen, but he was _alive._

Zayn reached up, tapping the earpiece in his ear, praying it was still working. “This is Malik, I need medical on 5th immediately. Payne went down. Do you copy?”

The line fed him static for a couple seconds before, “This is medical, we copy. Sending a unit your way, should be there in approximately ten.”

Zayn groaned as the line went dead, looking back at Liam and trying to keep his composure. Ten minutes was a long fucking time, anything could happen between now and then. “Just hang on, Li. Medical’s on their way. Just a bit longer, sweetheart.” He reached forward, brushing Liam’s bangs off of his forehead with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other. An overwhelming urge of protectiveness rushed through him; like _hell_ would he ever let anything happen to this boy.

“Careful, Z. A boy might get the wrong impression,” Liam murmured out, his voice weak and strained, but still making Zayn startle.

“Liam?” Zayn question, immediately moving forward to hover over him, the hand brushing his bangs moving to flutter down Liam’s side, checking for injuries while trying not to hurt him farther. “How do you feel? Do you remember what happened? Where you are?”

Liam let out a snort, obviously trying for sarcastic, but it ended up more of a choke than anything, and Zayn’s worry—which was already ridiculously high—ratcheted up a couple more notches.

“Just because I took a hit doesn’t mean I’m automatically incompetent,” Liam croaked, his voice rough and panting, and fuck, he really probably shouldn’t be talking in his condition. Zayn shouldn’t rise to the bait, he _shouldn’t_. But, well. Even injured, it seemed Liam knew just how to raise Zayn’s hackles.

“I wasn’t implying you were incompetent, Liam,” Zayn said, and so what if his voice sounded a little shrill? Zayn felt it was justified. “But you were _shot at,_ Liam, and—”

“So what? I get shot at all the time. I don’t know if you know this, Zayn, but it’s kinda part of the job—”

“— _and,_ ” Zayn interrupted, “you were shot at _and_ you fell two fucking stories, Liam. Excuse me for being more than a little concerned. I don’t know if _you know this,_ but that kind of fall _kills_ people, Liam.”

Liam just smirked up at him, the bastard. “Aww, c’mon, Zaynie. I’m not even hurt. I thought you knew me better than this. It’s gonna take more than a little fall to kill me.” And then the asshole _winked_ at him, fucking _winked_ while Zayn was sitting there consumed with worry, and now more than righteous anger. If he wanted to pretend like his fucking safety was a joke, then _fine,_ Zayn wasn’t going to treat him delicately, either.

He narrowed his eyes, moving both hands to the front of Liam’s jacket and _yanking,_ hauling Liam up with him as he stood up. Liam winced the entire way, a small groan working its way out of his throat at the rough treatment. _Not hurt, my ass,_ Zayn thought.

“Fuck,” Liam muttered, forcing his eyes closed as Zayn helped him find his balance. Zayn felt his anger slowly leave, guilt taking its place so quickly it nearly made his head spin.

What the fuck had he been thinking? Liam was fucking _hurt_ , and he’d let his anger get in the way—

But then Liam opened his eyes, pasting that stupid fucking smirk on his lips again as his eyes met Zayn’s. “Mmm, if I’d have known all it took for you to man handle me was falling off a building, I’d’ve done it sooner.” And then Zayn’s guilt was being slingshotted away, the anger at Liam’s utter lack of self-concern coming back with a vengeance.

Zayn felt his grip on Liam’s jacket tighten, before he used his grip to push Liam away—gently, though. He could recognize Liam was hurt, even if Liam was an idiot about his injuries. “Take your jacket off, Liam.”

Liam’s eye brows shot up, his mirk growing wider as he took a step towards Zayn, effectively erasing the space Zayn had created in the first place. “Why, Zayn, trying to get me to strip in public?”

Despite his flirty words, Liam still didn’t move to take off the jacket. It pissed Zayn off a little bit.

“If you’re going to be callous and stupid about your injuries, then one of us has to be smart about it. Medical will be here shortly, and I’d like to give them at least a place to start when it comes to patching you up.”

Liam just continued staring, that _stupid fucking smirk_ not going anywhere fast. “Wow. Your foreplay is incredible, Z. Calling me stupid and self-destructive in one breath? What a fuckin’ turn on.”

It took all of Zayn’s power not to shove Liam again, to not bunch his fist up and just let it fly at Liam’s face. He really was an asshole—Zayn wasn’t sure why he was so attracted to him in the first place.

“Liam,” Zayn gritted out, and really, if he clenched his jaw any tighter it’d probably snap. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” Liam’s response was to take a step forward, eliminating any space left between the two.

“C’mon, Zed,” Liam murmured, his breath ghosting across Zayn’s lips, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “You don’t wanna wait until we get somewhere a little more private, hmm? Maybe somewhere with a bed? Nice and soft and _big_ ; just for the two of us?” Liam took another step forward, causing Zayn to take a stumbling step back. He knew what Liam was doing—the man practically invented the word distracting—but _fuck_ if it wasn’t working. “Just want me to strip right here, in front of the whole city? Dirty streets and prying eyes be damned.”

Zayn felt himself swallow harshly, forcing himself to remember how he’d gotten himself in this situation to begin with. Liam was _hurt_ , Goddamnnit. _Hurt_. Zayn felt his anger flare up again—seriously, fuck Liam Payne and his stupid lack of self-preservation. He wanted to play games? Fine, Zayn could give as good as he fucking got.

He reached forward, twisting his hands in the collar of Liam’s jacket and jerking him forward, placing him just _that much closer_ to Zayn.

It was possible that, in his anger, he maybe, probably, most-likely didn’t think his plan through. He had wanted to yell at Liam, give him a lecture on the worth of his life and taking injuries seriously, then strip the jacket from around Liam himself and make sure he wasn’t bleeding all over the place.

As it was, once Liam was that fucking close he forgot his entire speech; his lecture slowly slipping from his brain and dropping to the hard pavement beneath their feet.

Still, he could try, right? It was something about the only bed being a hospital bed and hospitals having tons of privacy. Yeah, Zayn was pretty sure it was something like that.

“I-I don’t want you to take me to a b-bed,” Zayn said, and that wasn’t at all how the speech went, he knew. Zayn also wasn’t entirely sure what his face was doing anymore, but it must’ve been something Liam really liked because the smirk finally dropped off his face, his eyes zeroing in on Zayn’s lips. He pressed himself forward, lining up every inch of their bodies, and Zayn felt his next inhale get stuck in his throat, his breath stuttering as it tried to make its way to his lungs.

“Zaynie,” Liam breathed as he reached a hand up, tucking it against Zayn’s jaw, right where it met his throat. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.” And then Liam was pushing forward, closing the practically non-existent inches between them and sealing their lips together. Zayn felt his once-stuck breath come rushing in, a sharp inhale through his nose, at the first touch of their lips.

It was fucking dizzying, having Liam pressed against him, so close and solid, his lips warm and inviting. Every stray thought flew out of Zayn’s head, until all he could think about was Liam’s fucking _tongue_ , licking along Zayn’s own lips, seeking permission to a question Zayn was hopeless to refuse.

He granted Liam access easily, a greedy moan slipping out the minute Liam swept his tongue inside. He tasted a little bit like the dirt and rubble surrounding them, but there was also that unmistakable hint of bubblegum he was always fucking chewing. Liam was obnoxious with the shit, always blowing bubbles that gave loud pops just to annoy Zayn, but deep-down Zayn had always wondered if he’d taste like the stuff—sweet and undeniably rich.

The thought always left Zayn’s mouthwatering, and to find out that it was true? It was probably a good thing he was holding on to Liam, then.

Zayn tilted his head, removing one of his hands from Liam’s collar to wrap in the hairs at the base of Liam’s neck. He gave them a slight tug—which made Liam let out an absolutely _filthy_ moan, holy _fuck_ —moving to deepen the kiss, when—

“Um? E-excuse me? We were informed that Mr. Payne needed, um…medical attention?”

Zayn jerked back at the voice, focusing wide eyes on the medics standing a few feet from them. He felt his mouth drop open, bobbing up and down while he tried to formulate some kind of reason—some kind of sound _logic_ —for him to be making out with Liam while he was hurt.

Not surprisingly, he came up with nothing. He just stood there, gaping at the medics while Liam—seriously, he was an absolute _ass_ —failed to surpass a laugh.

Zayn turned to him, his mouth snapping shut in order to properly glare at the man. Liam only smiled wider in response.

Zayn decided right there that medical really didn’t need to worry too much about Liam’s injuries. After all, what was the point of treating a _dead man_. Because Zayn was going to kill him. Slowly, painfully.

“See boys,” Liam started, and Zayn just barely refrained from decking him and that smug tone. “That’s what I kept telling Zaynie, but he’s a bit old fashion, you see? Believes that any boo-boo can be healed with a kiss.” Liam was doing a piss poor job of smothering his laughter, and Zayn was probably doing a similar job of hiding how much he wanted to smother Liam.

The medics, bless them, only sent a confused smile Liam’s way, before asking Liam to follow him to get _properly_ looked over.

Zayn chose to ignore the jab, but Liam didn’t. He burst into laughter as he followed behind the medic—fucking _limping_. Zayn _knew_ he was hurt, the absolute bastard.

“I don’t know,” Liam said. “I kinda like the way Zayn handles it.” And then he turned his head, looking over his shoulder as he shot a wink Zayn’s way. Zayn’s stomach—the absolute traitor—did a flip.

Maybe Zayn would postpone murdering Liam—at least for today.


End file.
